


Lost Soul

by 221Browncoat



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt/Comfort, It is, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Spoilers, in case you were wondering if this was a shippy fic, the title came from pink floyd's wish you were here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 09:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21052196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221Browncoat/pseuds/221Browncoat
Summary: Tag to the first three eps that ended up turning into a tag to the latest ep because I waited too long to post it. A sort of fix-it. It fixes one thing. A big thing. Because the writers are doing my faves dirty.





	Lost Soul

"Christopher!" The word comes tumbling, breathless, from Buck's lips as he bolts upright in bed, heart hammering. He and his sheets are drenched with sweat, his chest tightening painfully as he struggles to catch his breath. Nervous fingers feel around the bedside table for his phone. He finds it and quickly dials, a task made more difficult by the fact that he can't stop his hands from shaking. "_Please please please._" He chews on a thumbnail as he waits for an answer. "Come on, _come on_."

There's a small groan, and then a voice says, "_Buck?"_

"Is Christopher okay?" Buck blurts.

"_Buck, what-Yeah, yeah. He's fine. He's in bed. And I'm in bed. Do you have any idea what time it is?"_

The tension slowly starts to leave Buck's body and he looks over at his alarm clock, making a face when he sees the numbers. "Damn it. I'm such an idiot. Eddie, I'm-I'm sorry I just-"

"_Hey," _Eddie interrupts. "_You're not an idiot. You, uh, you have a nightmare?"_

Buck doesn't answer, his cheeks suddenly flushing in embarrassment as his free hand clenches against the still-present tremors.

"_Buck?"_

"What?" he says quickly, trying to laugh. "N-no. No, I'm fine."

"_It's okay, Buck," _Eddie says. A pause, then, "_I have 'em too. From my time in the army."_

Buck sucks in a breath. "Oh. I didn't know that."

"_It's nothing to be ashamed of. Shit happens, you know? And sometimes your mind has a hard time dealing with that. It doesn't make you any less brave or any less of a hero."_

"Eddie, how many times do I have to tell you I'm not-"

"_Just shut up and take the compliment, Buckley." _Then, "_You good?" _Eddie asks, and Buck knows that he's not in a hurry to leave, that he's just making sure Buck is feeling better.

"Yeah, I think so. Just, uh-Can I ask you something?"

"_Of course."_

"How do you get back to sleep?"

To Buck's surprise, Eddie lets out a barking laugh, which he quickly silences. "_You're gonna wake up Christopher," _he hisses.

"I'm not gonna do shit. What's so funny?"

"_Usually if I have trouble getting back to sleep I, uh...I listen to ocean sounds."_

Buck giggles, for real this time, and shakes his head. "Oh, yeah. That is-that is definitely not going to work."

"_Download the nature sounds app. They've got lots of options besides ocean."_

Buck wrinkles his nose. "Really?"

"_Really. It's been a lifesaver. Just try it."_

"Okay," Buck says doubtfully. He lowers himself back down. "Thanks, Eddie."

"_Any time, Buck." _And Buck can tell he means it.

The next morning, he wakes up to a text from Eddie.

_Did it work?_

Buck smiles as he types his response. _Yeah. Rain on grass. Put me right to sleep._

He doesn't mention the fact that it was talking to Eddie that calmed him down.

xxx _three days later_

"No!"

He's in tears this time when he wakes up, the image of Christopher, hand outstretched just out of his reach, being pulled into the ocean still seared into his mind. His chest is painfully tight and he can hardly breathe. He scrambles for his phone, jamming in his passcode.

His finger hovers for a moment over the phone icon before he remembers.

_Goddammit._

He struggles to slow his breathing. _Shit happens, you know_ he thinks to himself, not in his own voice cus his own voice doesn't help. _Your mind has a hard time dealing with that._

_It's just my mind._

_Just my mind._

He opens up the nature sounds app and clicks on _rain on grass_ before turning the volume all the way up. He returns his phone to the bedside table and lays back down, letting the sounds wash over him.

They don't work, of course.

He stares up into the blackness, heart hammering, tears streaming down his face (not from the nightmare, now).

He's never felt more alone.

xxx

He's still awake when his phone buzzes at 4:17 am. He ignores it at first, as the only person who's been texting him is that asshole lawyer, but he quickly realizes that it is definitely too early for it to be the asshole lawyer who only contacts Buck when he's on the clock.

His next thought is that he hadn't actually heard anything, but then his phone does it again, and then again. A knot of anxiety forms in his stomach. It's probably someone-one of his (former?) co-workers angrily drunk texting him, or maybe his sister about to start her shift. Whoever it is, he imagines they aren't very happy with him.

The next time it buzzes he finally decides to look at it.

_4 messages from Eddie Diaz_

He takes a deep breath and holds it as he unlocks his phone.

A lump forms in his throat immediately.

_Hey, just wanted to check in. Hope u don't see this tonight._

_Chris had a nightmare again. Was asking about u. How's that app working?_

_I hope ur doing ok. Chris really misses u. He drew u a picture, I'll send a pic of it tomorrow._

And then, the kicker.

_Sorry I wasn't there for you, Buck. I won't make that mistake again. I hope I get the chance, though. I miss my wingman. Night._

Buck holds his phone to his chest and he cries.

xxx


End file.
